Requiem To Snowfall
by Ceasefire
Summary: [HavocRoy fluff] In which Havoc goes on a date with 'some woman', and Roy goes to a bar and pretends he doesn't care. But, in the end we all realize what's most important to us.


After the angst of last night, I thought I'd write fluff today. I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Every Friday night, Second Lieutenant Havoc was charged with the duty of taking Colonel Mustang to the bar - the _Take The Cross_ as it was called - after work. He'd wait outside with the car for a good hour, leaning against the bonnet, smoking, and waiting for his Colonel to finish off his expensive bourbon, leave the barkeep a bigger tip than was necessary, and then return to the car, with a simple order: "Take me home, Havoc."

Mustang never invited him in for a drink, although he'd made it quite clear, in other ways, that Jean was welcome to join him if he wished. Havoc declined every time, and was quite content waiting outside in the crisp night air with his smokes and his thoughts, come rain or shine. As winter had rolled around, Mustang had become more insistent and seemed concerned that Havoc would choose to wait out in the snow. Jean never said he minded, and continued to wait in the snow with his collar pulled up around his face and his cigarette smouldering weakly in the wind, his body casting shadows against the perfect blue moonlit glow of the pale snow on the ground.

However, tonight it seemed that Havoc wouldn't just be waiting outside in the snow for Roy to finish his drink.

The Colonel slid into the back seat of the military issue vehicle, and smirked at the image of Havoc presented to him; the blond was sitting in the driver's seat, wearing a white dress shirt and long black pants. A black tie knotted roughly around his neck. He had apparently made some vain effort at making his hair lie flat but instead had just succeeded in making it fuzz out at even stranger angles.

"'Lo, Colonel," the Second Lieutenant grinned.

"For me, Havoc? I'm touched."

Havoc snorted and put the car into gear, twisting the key stubbornly while the engine spluttered and protested against the cold weather.

"No, I'm going on a date tonight... and if this darn thing doesn't start I'm gonna be late."

"You intend to leave me at the bar all night then?" Mustang replied, trying to ignore the red-hot stab of jealousy that hit him just under his sternum.

"Oh, no. It's just dinner and all that jazz. I'll be an hour at most."

"Good to hear," Roy smirked over steepled fingers that were hiding a mouth twisted with unbridled displeasure, "Take me to the bar."

"Of course, Boss," Havoc replied, finally kicking the engine to life.

Ten minutes and seven blocks later, Roy was deposited at the entrance of the _Take The Cross_, and Havoc stuck his head out the window to assure him that he'd be back in time to pick him up an hour later before driving away into the flurry of snowfall.

Roy made his way inside and decided that tonight he wouldn't have his usual glass of bourbon, instead choosing a bottle of aged malt whiskey to nurse between himself and his thoughts. The barkeep handed him a clean shot glass and he nodded in thanks, poured himself half a glass and downed it in one go.

It somehow irked him that Havoc wouldn't necessarily be waiting outside for him whenever he wanted to go home, was instead on a date with _some woman_ that hardly knew him. Mustang poured another glass and decided to take his time with this one, swallowing such small portions from the glass that the other bar patrons must have thought he was mad. It wasn't like he minded Havoc dating. Wasn't like it affected him. Roy chose this moment to discard the shot glass and swig straight from the bottle. The alcohol burned his tongue but he didn't care at this point in time.

Thirty minutes later, when the bottle was only a quarter full and his head was swimming just a little from the alcohol, he decided that he cared a little more than he let on.

The door of the bar swung open and a cold draft brushed across the back of his neck, making him shiver. The seat next to his was pulled out, and Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc flopped down in it.

Roy regarded him for a moment, getting over the momentary shock of Havoc even being in the building at all, and then he noticed the large red mark on the man's cheek. It was practically in the shape of a slapping hand.

"So, how did it go?"

The blond grumbled and grabbed the near empty bottle of malt whiskey away from Roy.

"I hate it when they ask me that."

"What?"

Havoc took a long swig from the bottle and then wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

_"What's more important? Me or your work?"_

"And what did you answer?"

"If I'd answered right, would my cheek be throbbing?"

"Probably not."

A small hesitation, and then, "You'll always be the most important thing to me, Sir."

Roy sat there, shocked and trying to ignore the growing blush on Jean's cheeks, lest he be inclined to follow suit.

"Err, aah... damn it, I need another drink," Havoc mumbled vaguely, cheeks still flushed as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey again.

Roy chuckled warmly and prised the bottle from Havoc's fingers.

"Now, now... you still have to take me home."

"'S why I don't come in here with you. If I did this all the time, we'd both be walking."

"Have a cigarette instead," the Colonel suggested snidely, and Havoc snorted.

"I'm out. She took the last one I had on me."

"You must be going mad."

"That's why it'd be a good idea to finish off your drink so I can go home and do the usual. You know; calm my nerves, have a smoke..."

"Rot your lungs..."

"Very funny."

"I know," Roy smirked, downing the last of the whiskey and getting to his feet, standing perfectly still until the alcohol found its place in his system, "Shall we?"

Havoc nodded and got up quickly, walking ahead to open the door for his Colonel out of habit. Mustang walked out and towards the car and the blond shut the door behind himself and walked around the vehicle to get into the driver's seat.

Much to Jean's surprise (and in a strange way, to his happiness), Mustang slid into the passenger's seat next to him instead of getting into the back as he usually did.

"Take me home, Havoc."

"Sure, Chief," the Second Lieutenant replied, once again twisting the key furiously, trying to make the car start. After ten minutes of twisting the key and fiddling with the gears and pedals, Havoc sighed and threw himself back into his seat.

"It won't start."

"I figured as much."

"Great, just great."

"No need to get all worked up about it, Havoc."

"Why not? I just got back from the date from Hell, I have no smokes with me and it's snowing, so I'm freezing!"

"Poor baby."

"You're so kind," Havoc retorted sarcastically, reaching up to tug on his tie, "And now this thing won't undo!"

"Let me see," Roy replied, and before the blond knew what he was doing, the older man had tugged him closer by the end of his tie and was gently working the twisted knot out of the material.

Roy finished undoing the knot, and looked up to meet Havoc's eyes from way too close. The blond cursed himself when he felt his face heat under the Colonel's amused gaze, and did his best to stay perfectly still.

"All done," Roy smirked, gently tugging the thinner end of the tie towards himself until the black silk was no longer hanging over Jean's neck. Roy tossed it over into the back seat. Roy stared. Jean blinked. Roy smirked, and then leaned forward, tongue darting out of his mouth to brush against Jean's lips with the slightest touch, and then downwards, along the line of Jean's jaw, across his stubbled chin and along the fine hollow of his neck. Roy then broke away and resumed his smirk.

_Damn._

Just as Roy was leaning in again and Jean was feeling the heat once again rush to his face as he readied himself for the full impact of his Colonel's kiss, the engine of the car decided to kick itself into life. Roy came to his senses and pulled away, and Jean realized with some shock that in between undoing his tie and... and doing _that_ with his tongue, the dark-haired man had managed to sit in his lap with his legs splayed either side of the blond's own thighs.

Roy cleared his throat.

"Take me home, Havoc."

"You've already told me that, Sir."

"Not my home, Second Lieutenant; yours."

This drew Jean's attention away from the road, and he met dark eyes filled with question, longing, perhaps even nervousness... but the hunger was what mattered the most. Havoc grinned and leaned over the seat again, clasping one of Roy's gloved hands in his own and drawing the older man across the seat again, closer to him. He leaned over and placed a simple, light kiss on his Colonel's lips.

"Of course Sir."

Neither of them would be finding themselves alone in a requiem to snowfall that night.

**END**


End file.
